


life and death

by SaintDracTheAlien



Series: scarletvision stories for when you're lying awake at two in the morning thinking about how infinity war Ruined Your Life and looking for fanfiction that'll fix it [1]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, I literally can't write romance for these two without constant teasing and silliness, Love Confessions, Post-Civil War (Marvel), Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Requited Love, Romance, Romantic Fluff, also chapter two is one of my favourite chapters I've ever written please enjoy it in particular, bc that's what happened with chapter one, but the rest is like ' :0! :D :))) ', chapter one is like ' :/? :((( ', for authenticity, heads up apparently flangst is all I know how to write sorry, oh and also maybe some ' :3! ', poor viz I'm kinda mean to him, should I only write from vision's pov when I'm sleep deprived myself, they're just a happy couple okay??, this is a wholesome relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-07-28 12:33:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16241702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaintDracTheAlien/pseuds/SaintDracTheAlien
Summary: Everyone tells Vision and Wanda's first post-Raft reunion a little bit differently. Here's my contribution to the lot:In the underbelly of Milan, the Vision wanders madly while waiting for word from Steve Rogers. He left the compound after hearing that an escape attempt was being made at the Raft, and he just can't find it in himself to return (or even sleep) until he knows his teammates are safe. His teammates, and . . . someone whom he feels he owes the apology of a lifetime. Unbeknownst to him, however, an opportunity to give that apology (as well as find solace in forgiveness) is just around the corner.Dedicated to ChestnutBrumby, in recognition of their hard work and incredible contributions to fan content. This story is absolutely inspired by and adapted from their own version of the tale - please read that, and their other fantastic works as well!(takes about 45 minutes to read)





	1. transatlanticism

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ChestnutBrumby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChestnutBrumby/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Sit talking up all night](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14511750) by [ChestnutBrumby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChestnutBrumby/pseuds/ChestnutBrumby). 



The Vision stopped flying somewhere above Milan. 

He simply couldn’t stay at the compound this weekend, what with everything that had transpired - that being said, however, he didn’t really have anywhere else to go. So, he had started flying and didn’t intend to stop until he was exhausted of keeping himself in the air, which was right about now. While he didn’t necessarily need sleep as often as most people, even he was starting to feel woozy after nearly 30 hours of restlessness.

Vision still wasn’t sure what his relationship was to the Avengers, even after spending an entire year living and learning with them. Should he continue claiming them simply as teammates, even after they had experienced so much together? Or were they considered friends now, having moved past some kind of invisible social barrier?

Or possibly...could Vision call them his family? They were without a doubt the people he was closest to, the ones who had surrounded him when he first saw the world, hesitant as they were to accept him as their own. Would he ever come closer to having a family than where he stood right now?

Except scratch that - because none of them stood in a position to claim anything as their own anymore. Everything that the Avengers had built for each other had been torn apart in an unbelievably short amount of time, which was still something to get used to. The emptiness of the New York compound still seemed uncomfortable and wrong, despite the fact that the Avengers’ absence would likely remain permanent. Vision couldn’t deny the large part he had played in the destruction of his own ‘family’, much less spend any time worrying about how to label the broken unit or adjust to these new circumstances.

His stomach hurt at the mere thought of the Sokovia Accords. He had signed the documents that had taken everyone away, and while he knew it was unchangeably true, he still just couldn’t seem to accept the mistake. A single word, nothing more than ink on paper, had cost a man his ability to walk. It had taken away the innocence of a child and the father of a son. It had robbed two of the most powerful men on Earth of their mutual trust, and it had nearly cost two other men their families. Worst of all - Vision had taken another home from Wanda Maximoff, despite knowing that she had lacked a true one for more than a decade. His regret was absolutely crippling when he thought of how he had hurt Wanda.

So, once these bitter memories began coursing through his mind, Vision stopped flying somewhere above Milan - he was far too exhausted to keep track of his guilt and stay in the air at the same time. He landed softly on a vacant backroad, underneath a lonely street lamp surrounded by beige apartment buildings and cobblestone walkways, and began walking aimlessly forward. There was no destination in mind, but here it was dark and vacant and quiet: the perfect place to think without worrying about being seen.

So far, Vision had remained completely silent regarding his panicked interaction with Captain Rogers a couple nights ago. There was certainly no one he cared to mention it to, that was for sure. He may have acted like a traitor by signing the accords in the first place, but the aftermath of his choice had turned him against Stark. Of course it had! Nearly everyone had decided Stark had ultimately stood in the wrong: Natasha Romanoff, Prince T’Challa, even Colonel Rhodes had realized their support was ultimately a mistake. 

Wanda had known which side was right from the beginning - of course she had known, how stupid Vision was to have not understood earlier. She had been raised in the streets of an imprisoned country, whose government had failed to protect its citizens by relinquishing control to a foreign body. The US had invaded Sokovia’s infrastructure, supporting wealthy politicians rather than giving power back to the impoverished people themselves. Didn’t the situation ring a bell? As soon as those accords hit the table, Wanda must have decided she wasn’t signing. She couldn’t possibly relinquish her autonomy again, not after the consequences her people had suffered after experiencing it themselves.

How ironic that the accords would be named after a country viciously fighting against its own systematic regulation.

Knowing that Wanda had fought against this fate, Vision had called Rogers, and he hoped that the Captain had been successful at following his instructions. Hoping to help ensure Wanda’s freedom now was a small price to pay after being responsible for her imprisonment. Plenty of penance still remained as well, if Vision hoped to ever be able to forgive himself.

But could she ever forgive him? 

That was the true question, one that had kept Vision awake and running for 30 hours straight. Flying had often helped clear his mind, but it seemed as though spending time in the air was now only a temporary distraction. Every bad thing which followed him had finally caught up to his speed, and if there was anything Vision couldn’t escape, it was what happened inside his head.

Moving along solid ground didn’t relieve much of his restlessness either, even as he continued alone through the dim alleyways and around thriving corner hedges. First he simply walked, but after a while he felt his frustration and worry beginning to pool over, and his focused stride turned quicker and angrier. He definitely couldn’t find the energy to truly run, but there was so much pressure in his chest and acid in his stomach that he felt as though he could scream for days on end and still find no relief.

This was true loneliness. Vision had only felt it once before, and that time, it hadn’t been an emotion of his own. Being a second hand witness of Wanda’s stronger feelings was sometimes useful, but on this occasion, remembering his first experience with isolation only made things worse. He missed being the one who distracted her from pain, rather than being its cause.

He continued looking through Milan’s back roads, though for what exactly, he wasn’t sure. Maybe he wasn’t searching for anything at all, and instead continued looking fervently ahead so as to keep from turning back the way he came. Vision was nearly certain Stark had yet to notice his absence, so theoretically, he had all the time in the world to spend in the darkened streets. 

Rogers had said he would somehow give him an update, and the more time passed, the more nervous Vision became that the few Avengers who remained on the run hadn’t been successful at the prison. What if the Captain himself had been taken into the custody of the Raft? What if Vision was the only one left with any idea where the Avengers may be being held, or the kind of dangers they may soon face there?

And then, in the middle of yet another descent into the rabbit hole of worry, the Vision suddenly stopped in his tracks. It was still quiet all around him, and there was no one else to be seen wandering the streets. But he had not seen it, and he had not heard it...he had felt it. Something - or rather, someone - had began watching him from the shadows.


	2. sick of losing soulmates

Wanda couldn’t fall asleep for the life of her. Something was keeping her eyes from staying shut much longer than thirty seconds at a time. She would roll over as quietly as possible, hoping not to disturb the others in the room, and let her eyelids close - only for them to bolt back open a moment later, refusing to let her slip away. 

Sleeping had been considerably easy for the past couple of nights: the rogue Avengers had done nothing but run since Captain America had taken down the Raft, and with so much travelling and staying hidden, Wanda found herself constantly exhausted. The first night out of prison, she’d been out like a light as soon as her head hit the pillow. Why was it that now, hardly a day later, she was completely restless? She turned onto her back and looked up at the dark ceiling, as if she expected the answer to be written there.

“This is ridiculous,” Wanda mouthed to herself, not even daring to whisper considering their close quarters. She blinked a few times and kept staring up, hoping for some kind of solution to come to her soon. The whole night couldn’t be wasted like this, considering her team’s plans to move out again in the morning. They had crossed half a dozen European borders already, and tomorrow they would cross another into Slovenia, searching for one of Natasha’s few remaining contacts. It was their Plan A, and there wasn’t much optimism that it would bring an end to all their problems, but at least they had something.

The small hotel room stayed dark and quiet as Wanda’s three teammates slept. She was becoming increasingly frustrated, but rather than continue fuming, she finally decided to take a walk and see if she couldn’t clear her head of whatever was keeping her up. She got out of bed as silently as she could, slipping on the sneakers she’d thankfully had in storage on the Quinjet, and left the room with a key card in hand.

Long bulbs of bright light illuminated the hallway, and Wanda squinted as her eyes adjusted from the darkness. She walked slowly, intent only on strolling through the halls of the building, maybe making a few laps until her brain finally decided to shut up and sleep. Closed doors and windows covered by drawn curtains surrounded her on each side, and as she approached a corner and saw another hallway exactly like the one she’d just seen, Wanda frowned. She was bored of being awake, and continuing in a circle of beige walls and patterned carpet suddenly didn’t sound like the way to fix that.

She looked around the halls for an exit leading outside, and after a minute, saw two glass doors leading out to a courtyard in the center. Wanda strode over to them and pushed one open, the cool night air hitting her as she did so, and walked out onto a cement walkway. The large, neon glowing pool which sat in the yard was only slightly disturbed by the breeze passing through. Above the pool were balconies and more doors, each one with a hazy yellow light above it, and the stars were only barely visible from her spot on the ground.

Wanda stood for a moment, taking in the night, before strolling over to a poolside lounge chair and perching on it. She kept both feet on the ground, simply sitting with her hands in her pockets, and watched the bright turquoise water as it gently swirled and tossed. Her long brown hair hung loosely down the sides of her face, but she didn’t bother tucking it behind her ears. The night was suddenly reminding her of one experienced on the deck of the tower long ago…

Painfully faint starlight. Wind blowing softly, whispering quietly in her ears. Long sleeves keeping her warm and a headache behind her eyes.

She hadn’t been able to sleep that night either. In all honesty, she never really found sleep while they still lived at Avengers tower. Plenty of nights she had found herself awake and alone, and while being awake was an inconvenience, being alone was still something life-ruining for her. Wanda had longed for her brother every night, even after he’d been laid to rest at Novi Grad’s memorial with other victims of Ultron. Originally, she’d hoped to have him buried with their parents - but it was quickly realized, however, that their graves almost certainly no longer existed (along with the rest of Novi Grad).

They’d only stayed in the tower for about a month after that, as the headquarters quickly became far too high-profile for the team. Security guards and special agents coming in and out were constantly pursued by journalists asking violent questions. More than once had someone attempted to get a photograph of Wanda herself, the ‘Scarlet Witch’ adopted from Sokovia, the sole survivor of Strucker’s experimentation. She didn’t care for the way they wrote about her, knowing the kind of grief she was in and still choosing to talk like she was an escaped zoo animal.

Losing Pietro, combined with being exposed to the world’s hateful curiosity, had kept her from sleeping during most of her time in the tower. After a couple of weeks, though, those long moonlit hours had turned much less lonely, and even a bit less frequent.

Wanda remembered the first night she had heard the door open behind her and turned to see Vision standing there, hesitant to come closer but obviously intent on saying something.

“I don’t own the deck,” she had told him, “despite how often I find myself on it.”

“If I thought you enjoyed being out here,” he had replied cautiously, walking casually towards her, “I would continue leaving you alone. But I had a feeling that staying up alone so often wasn’t your choice.”

She had smiled weakly. “How perceptive of you. Though I’m sure you’re not the only one who’s noticed.”

“It’s possible that I am. Everyone else is so busy, with moving and cleaning up after Ultron and whatnot, but you and I…” Vision had paused, unsure of how to proceed.

“Have nothing to contribute yet?”

“Yes,” he had admitted, “exactly.”

Vision had finally sat down on the other end of the bench Wanda was curled up on. She couldn’t remember exactly how long they were silent, but eventually, she had confessed, “I can’t sleep because my dreams are full of headlines.”

He had nodded, as if he’d already read her mind. “I understand. They are not kind to either of us, are they?”

She had turned to look at him then, her brow creasing slightly as she waited for his explanation. Vision had just shrugged, offering her a half-smile, before continuing, “You are their witch, and I am their robot. A genetically enhanced anarchist from Sokovia’s orphanages, and Ultron’s bastard child whose existence defies nature. You are not their only victim, Wanda Maximoff.”

While she had certainly heard it in his words, Wanda had also felt the Vision’s heartbreak via the connection between their two minds. The sensation was still very new to her then, but she was grateful for it in that moment - it had led her to realize that they were both just humanity’s rejects. She had hoped he could pick up on her compassion for him.

“As long as I’m around,” he’d finished quietly, “you’ll never be alone when you face bad press.”

Neither of them had said anything for the rest of the night. Wanda had somehow woken up in her bed the next afternoon, with an unfamiliar fleece blanket wrapped around her. It eventually became the same blanket that she would take onto the rooftop of the compound, when sleep remained a stranger and Vision started teaching her to fly. That night’s conversation, however brief or long ago, still held special memory for her. No one else had reached out to her like that, tried to get on her level of experience.

But now she sat alone at the edge of a hotel pool, staring into its blue luminescence and wondering if she would ever reach a point where fate stopped throwing her in front of buses. She thought the papers were bad before, but now, they had actually forced her back to a life on the streets.

“How’s the press now, Viz?” she whispered to herself, wondering if he could ever hear her over so much distance. Even the mind stone’s channel faltered when they were too far apart.

But as soon as his nickname had left her lips, an unbelievably intense sensation of loneliness and grief came pouring over Wanda. It was overwhelming enough to knock her from where she balanced on the edge of the chair, and she grabbed the plastic beneath her before she toppled to the ground. It felt like an avalanche had swept over her from behind and buried her beneath heaps of frigid cold.

She couldn’t feel anything except the sting of regret and isolation that had filled her entire body, but even as it possessed her, she knew the emotions were not her own. Sure, she may have reason enough to be lonely (especially since she had just been reminiscing about her best friend), but it had come on much too suddenly and surprised her with its strength. She was feeling someone else - someone very familiar to her now, even if he hadn’t been on that night long ago.

“Vision,” Wanda gasped, realizing that if she could sense him this strongly, he must be close by. She stood up shakily, slowly getting used to the feeling, and rushed to the glass door through which she’d entered. She swung it open wildly and stumbled down the hall, hoping that her memory wouldn’t fail her as she tried to find the lobby. She believed the front desk had a notepad and several pens, and she would need to leave some kind of note telling her teammates where she had gone. There simply wasn’t enough time to conference with them - nor did Wanda think she could sufficiently explain what was happening, anyway.

Eventually, after a few more turns and a couple misdirections, Wanda found the lobby. There was no attendant at the desk, but true to her recollection, there were pens and paper. She hurriedly tore off a sheet and scribbled an apology for any delays she may cause, reassuring her team that she would be back by noon the next day with an explanation. 

As soon as the note was finished, Wanda ran back in the direction of her room, finding her way around much more quickly this time. She rushed through each creme colored hallway, eventually finding the Avengers’ door and slipping her note underneath it. Hopefully, when Natasha woke up in a few hours to find Wanda’s side of the bed empty, she would discover the folded paper quickly afterwards.

With her team taken care of and Vision still pulsing through her mind, Wanda backtracked to the glass doors that led to the courtyard and found herself back outside, with nothing but open sky keeping her from going to him.

Wherever he may be, that was.

“Please,” Wanda pleaded, mostly with the mind stone, “show me where to go.”

She closed her eyes, concentrating on finding the other end of the stone’s connection. With the bright light of the pool almost completely blocked out, Wanda properly concentrated on the storm of emotions she had identified as the Vision’s pain. There was no way he was clear back home, with how strongly Wanda could feel him now - he was definitely in the same country at least, maybe even in the same city as her…

There.

She couldn’t explain it, but like a compass, the stone was suddenly pointing her in the right direction. Wanda quickly stretched her hands out beneath her, red sparks dancing around her fingers as she lifted into the air and took off into the night. She could only hope that whatever was guiding her would keep doing so until she reached the Vision, or else she might find herself lost somewhere along Italy’s northern border.

But for now, the Scarlet Witch headed westward, her head pounding and all thoughts of sleep left behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like this chapter, and I particularly enjoyed writing it. I'm hoping to really start writing stuff more like this, although I'm not really sure what to define 'this' as. all I know is that writing dialogue between wanda and vision is one of my favourite things to do, and while we haven't gotten to real time dialogue yet, this was a nice breath of fresh air for me.
> 
> I'm exhausted and haven't been doing well mentally lately, which means I'm not doing great at updating 'ocean eyes' (another of my in progress stories that you may follow), but while that work is on pause this one is on full-speed ahead. I need to dedicate myself to more happy scenes with these two, it's good for me and it's good for you. 
> 
> and finally, remember, patience is a virtue - this story isn't that slow of a burn, but I know it might feel like it right now. sorry! rest assured, the next chapter will be very satisfying! I promise.


	3. reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Very Long (like 5000 words fellas), absolute rollercoaster of a chapter is dedicated to GreenAsClover - for always being such a loyal and encouraging reader, and for leaving amazing, kind comments on nearly every new installment. You are seen and very much appreciated! Thank you for inspiring my confidence and giving me my motivation! <3

The Vision suddenly stopped in his tracks. It was still quiet all around him, and there was no one else to be seen wandering the streets. But he had not seen it, and he had not heard it...he had felt it. Something - or rather, someone - had began watching him from the shadows.

He didn’t dare turn his head, refusing to further give away that he had noticed anything. Instead, he gazed around the surrounding area with his eyes alone, looking over each street corner and dark space between buildings. Eventually he checked over his shoulders, knowing that he had paused long enough to tip off whoever it was that followed him. Nothing moved, neither in front of him nor behind, not even a shadow. So Vision took another few hesitant steps forward and continued down the street, a bit more cautiously than before.

Yet he still felt like he was being pursued, despite being the only person around. Something about the feeling drew his attention in a way he couldn’t ignore, and that confused him. It wasn’t like he would be in any danger if he was wrong, and someone did lurk nearby. After all, why should a man like Vision be afraid of anyone? But in all honesty, it wasn’t a sense of danger that had settled over him - rather, he felt a bit like he was being intentionally pushed in a certain direction. It was as if someone was laying out an escape route and expected him to follow it.

Not far ahead, there was a T-shaped intersection, which split the street in front of what appeared to be a public park. Vision decided to stop there and confront whatever must be waiting for him, whether it was friendly or not. It may not have been the smartest decision, considering how long he had gone without sleep, but to be fair, 30 hours of restlessness also meant that most common sense had been tossed out the window. So he walked down the short street and to the gate of the park.

After getting a closer look, Vision decided that the area looked much less like a park and more like a garden: a wrought iron fence surrounded a large patch of well-kept grass and trees, and inside the fence, a large hedge kept passerby from glancing casually inside. An iron archway entrance stood to match the fencing, not ten feet away from where the Vision stood himself. He had stopped just across the road, gazing at the tall arch and beyond it into the park, which was covered by treetops and much darker than the road because of it.

Once he had stopped and stood for a moment, Vision noticed the tranquil quiet. Leaves rustled gently in the light breeze, and somewhere further down the road, a wind-chime rang out cheerily. There were no cars, no pedestrians, not even a bicycle in the area. The yellow light of street lamps laid like a haze over the cement sidewalks, and the only other light came from a large, full moon overhead.

So, with no one else in sight, why couldn’t Vision shake the feeling that he was not alone?

In fact, the feeling had not gone away in the slightest - rather, it was intensifying with every second that passed. Vision didn’t care at all anymore about looking ignorant to whoever drew closer, instead looking up and down the road hurriedly, turning his whole body to check the alleys and doorways and rooftops surrounding him. Still nothing, still no one - yet something was approaching, he was sure of it.

The mind stone, until this point, had seemed silent on the matter, implying that the feeling was just a natural instinct rather than something more complicated. Now, however, it was suddenly awake, pulsing every few seconds with its golden glow and causing a different sensation cascading over the Vision’s thoughts:

Wanda Maximoff.

He would know her anywhere, asleep or awake, maybe even dead or alive. The signature was not only unique - it was also the first that the Vision had ever felt. While Ultron had looked on the cradle, Wanda had telepathically interfaced with the mind stone and seen the android’s plans for global extinction, as well as accidentally established a mental connection between the mind stone and herself (as well as Ultron and her brother, Pietro - but she remained the only living connection). The first thoughts to come tumbling through Vision’s head had been of Wanda’s fear for humanity, but more importantly, of Wanda herself.

Vision fell as the connection grew stronger, overwhelmed by both fatigue and the realization that she was the person growing closer. He lifted one hand to his forehead and rested it over the mind stone, gasping as the sensation continued getting stronger, unsure of exactly how he felt. Wanda Maximoff was alive and free, that was for certain - and knowing that was like taking the weight of the world off of Vision’s shoulders. But he was also sure that she was coming towards him quickly, and while he’d never had a reason to fear Wanda, he did currently have a reason to be afraid of her disappointment.

How could he face her after acting like a traitor? Sure, they had both given their apologies after the Avengers’ airport battle, but had that really been ample time to truly say sorry? And what about afterward? Wanda had since faced imprisonment in the Raft and escaped as an international criminal, and the only reason why Vision hadn’t joined her was because his name was signed on a piece of paper. 

Or, perhaps, because he had always followed Tony Stark’s example rather than make his own decision - which, for the record, would have been to run. He could say confidently now, with the benefit of hindsight, that had Wanda turned to him and said, “Let’s just leave and refuse to play as anyone’s pawn,” he would have agreed to it.

But no one had said anything, and now he was on his knees in a cobblestone street in Northern Italy, holding his head in his hands and petrified by the fear that he had lost the person he cared for most in this world.

Suddenly, two dim spheres of red light were visible in the night sky, approaching the opposite side of the garden. Vision watched as the lights came closer, and eventually, he could make out a dark figure wielding them as she approached. She didn’t seem to have spotted him the street, though - instead, she started to descend into the treetops, landing somewhere in the middle of the park. Vision stood slowly, his hands falling back to his sides, and tried to control his short, quick breaths. His heart was still racing as he took a tentative step forward, peering into the darkness beyond the iron fence.

A moment later, Wanda stepped out into the light of the street, standing in the middle of the entrance to the park. Her eyes seemed weary with travel, but by the way she stood with her shoulders tense and hands poised, it was evident that she was still on alert regardless. Her dark brown hair was loose and tucked over her shoulders, a bit mussed from flying, and her cheeks were pink from the cold.

“Wanda,” Vision said, softly enough that it was a miracle she even heard him. He really couldn’t think of much else to say in a moment like this.

“Viz,” Wanda replied, sizing him up with a vivid look of concern on her face. “What’s wrong?”

But he hardly registered the question she had asked before scanning her entire person for injuries or signs of foul play. Nothing about the woman in front of him immediately looked out of place - no broken bones, no cuts or bruises, not a single bandage in sight. It seemed like Steve Rogers had still taken good care of his team in the end, but escaping the Raft without even a scratch seemed too good to be true.

“Wanda,” Vision said again, this time his voice breaking as he took a single step towards her. “How did you know where to find me?”

She raised her eyebrows in surprise, then answered, “I heard you. Did you not think I would come?”

“What? No, I - I didn’t know you were free, that you could even fly here, I didn’t - I didn’t mean for you to hear anything."

Wanda continued to look confused, then began explaining further, “I couldn’t sleep. I was awake, just sitting outside by myself, and suddenly I felt you strongly enough that you may as well have been next to me. And you were…” she trailed off, biting her lip for a moment and taking a deep breath before quietly continuing, “You were in so much pain, Viz. It was so much to bear that it knocked me to the ground," she said, her eyes never leaving his. 

Vision felt the air rush out of his lungs when he realized what pain Wanda was talking about - when everything had finally piled high enough that he had decided to land. “Well, I suppose it was enough to knock me to the ground too.”

“And I thought I was feeling it because you needed me to find you, so...here I am.”

There wasn’t a drop of anger in her eyes. No accusations, no distrust, no fury. How could she still stand there and look at him with so much worry, so much care? Vision didn’t know how far she had flown, but it must have been a long journey, and in the dead of night too. Just because she’d felt the pain he was in. She was eager to sacrifice for him, even now. At this point, it was nearly too much for him to bear.

He stayed still for a moment, transfixed by Wanda’s unending affection, until she asked again, “What’s wrong, Vision?”

And before he knew it, he was suddenly rushing towards her. For once in his life, Vision didn't stop and consider his course of action, or over-analyze how he could regret the choice later. He had realized that all he wanted was to have Wanda Maximoff in his arms, and here was an opportunity for that - one that he still feared he may not have again. If she had come all this way just for him, then he was desperate to experience a proper reunion, for memory’s sake. It still didn’t seem possible that it could play out this way, but as long as the impossible lasted, Vision would make every second count.

Wanda looked surprised at first, but as he hurried toward her, she anticipated what he would do next and opened her arms. An instant later, Vision had crashed against her in an embrace, wrapping his arms tightly around her shoulders. Wanda let her own hands take hold around his waist, breathing in deeply as her head settled in the crook of his neck. She bent her knees slightly, just barely leaning in against him, and felt how much warmer it was here than it had been in the chilly night air.

As they stood together under the arch leading to the garden of trees, all Vision could feel was the heat of Wanda’s breath against his shoulder, and the way her body seemed to curve against his as she held him even tighter. He understood why it was so painfully killing him to think of how he had wronged her. Maybe he’d understood for a while, but that understanding hadn’t quite come to the surface until she was finally close enough to drive it home.

"I'm sorry, Wanda,” he murmured into her hair, his voice breaking, “I’m so sorry and I will be forever.”

She moved away slightly, just enough that she could look him in the eyes but still keep her hands on his back. “Sorry? For what?” she asked, not so much confused, but rather finding the apology unnecessary.

“I can’t sleep either,” Vision told her, his exhaustion evident in his voice, “and I haven’t at all since Captain Rogers went to find you at the Raft.” 

Wanda gasped at the revelation and shook her head in disapproval, exclaiming, “Viz, it’s been two days since then!”

“And I’ve been awake,” Vision shrugged, “waiting to hear if you were alright, because all I could do was bite my nails until I knew for sure. And eventually the FBI came to investigate the compound, so I decided to leave until I heard from one of you.”

(A mix of federal agents and UN officials had indeed come to lock down the compound, taking inventory of just about every piece of tech and intel stored there, seeing as it was technically their legal property now. This had infuriated the Vision, mostly because he had been recorded as one of those pieces of tech himself, despite his own autonomous signature on the accords.)

Vision continued, “I started flying, and I didn’t stop until I’d gone across the ocean and Spain and France. And I finally stopped here, because it was too much to keep dragging behind me.”

“What was too much?” Wanda asked, taking one more short step backward, moving her hands slightly so they rested at his sides rather than behind him.

“The guilt,” he confessed, “of the mistake I made by choosing Stark’s side. The weight of the pain I had caused you in the process.”

“The guilt?” she repeated, incredulous. “That’s what I felt from you? That’s what was strong enough to knock me off a chair from a hundred miles away?”

“Everything I did,” Vision told her in a rush, “led up to every bad thing that happened to you, Wanda. My signature, my compliance, all of it. I was sure that I had lost you because of it. I feel like that’s what I deserve.”

Wanda stood gaping at him silently, hardly believing what she was hearing. He was embarrassed to admit everything to her in one breath like that - it revealed so much of him that she hadn’t yet seen, and hopefully knew nothing about. Of course, Vision knew how he felt about Wanda, and he’d come to terms with it long before now. But this was nowhere near an opportune time to lead her to understand his feelings as well, and he worried that he had accidentally done just that.

But she did deserve to know the truth about him, especially after coming all this way - so the truth he told regardless.

A moment later and Wanda still had not said anything, but she had lifted a hand up underneath her hair. She was wearing a sweater with a collar high enough that it covered most of her neck, but now she had slid her thumb inside it and started pulling it down towards her collarbone.

When she had worked the knit fabric low enough, and Vision saw what she had been concealing underneath, he stepped back quickly in shock. A hot wave of fury shot through his veins and he desperately tried to stay calm, but it grew more and more difficult the longer he looked.

Several large, thick bandages had been wrapped around Wanda’s neck, hiding exactly how she had been injured but making it very clear that the wound was substantial. She didn’t look away from Vision, even as his expression crumbled and he cupped his face in his hands.

“What did they do to you?” he asked, shaking as he spoke, trying to keep himself from doing or saying something in his anger that he may regret after.

“Viz, I need you to look at me when I tell you this,” Wanda told him sadly, reaching up to where his hands covered his eyes and laying her own fingers against his. “Hey Viz? Look at me.”

A moment passed before Vision slowly moved his hands away from his face. He looked at the bandages beneath her collar again, and felt something rising in his throat. Vision wanted to scream - seeing the evidence of the abuse inflicted on Wanda while she was imprisoned had pushed him to his tipping point. 

He couldn’t fathom what part of the accords justified this. Who could have been given the means to hurt her? They may have kept her in the Raft, but how did that alone warrant this kind of treatment? She was an Avenger! She was one of their heroes!

“Listen,” Wanda began gently, still holding each of Vision’s hands in his own so as not to lose his complete attention. “The bandages are covering burns, from a shock collar. No one there understood how my magic works, and they unknowingly took some unnecessary precautions. As long as I was quiet, it didn’t hurt me, I just...messed up a few times. There really aren’t very many of them, but now they can heal because we got out quickly and could cover them up. If Steve hadn’t gotten to us when he did, they would be so much worse now. Okay?”

Vision nodded, understanding that she was staying calm to help him do so as well, but also unable to stop picturing her in the Raft, alone in a cell, wearing a shock collar and unable to speak without being burned. His jaw locked painfully when he thought about it.

“I don’t know the names of anyone who was there,” she continued. “And I don’t know who put it on me in the first place. But I did see the man who refused to take it off, even after Clint had told him they didn’t need to use it. He didn’t trust us, and he wouldn’t listen, and he’s the reason why this,” Wanda pointed at the white gauze pads stuck around her neck, “kept happening. Him and him alone, alright? Not you.”

“You wouldn’t have even been there if it wasn’t for me,” Vision tried arguing in a near whisper.

“No, I wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for Tony Stark. None of us would have been there if Tony had put up any kind of fight to protect us. You can’t take responsibility for his mistakes, Vision, especially if it’s going to tear you apart like this. You don’t owe me a single apology, because as far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing left to forgive. Understand?”

He nodded, hoping that if Wanda could forget it all in an instant like that, then maybe someday he could forgive himself as well. She had been telling him for years now that he held onto his own mistakes too stubbornly. This was inarguably the best example so far, but in time, she may finally convince him to quit the bad habit.

“So now I have to ask,” Wanda added after a moment of quiet, “who are you more angry with right now: yourself, or the man who let the collar burn me?”

“Him,” the Vision answered swiftly, “but only because I know you were trying to convince me to shift the blame.”

“Well the joke’s on you, smarty-pants,” Wanda teased with a smile, “I still managed to trick you into it, didn’t I?”

She let go of Vision’s left hand, but kept a hold on his right, waiting a moment before hesitantly lacing her fingers through his - which instantly made his heart skip a beat. He was surprised by the bold move, to say the least. It was possible that Wanda didn’t mean to imply anything extraordinary with the gesture, but even so, she had never done something like that before. And he’d never had the guts to do anything similar, that was for certain.

Wanda glanced down at their conjoined hands, her long hair falling to cover her face just slightly. “Is this okay?” she asked, notably without looking back up. Her feet shuffled nervously as she waited for his answer, and Vision could see her bite her lip briefly. He suddenly realized that he may not be the only one who felt the significance of the moment.

Was she...embarrassed for herself?

“Yes,” he replied, “of course it’s okay.”

And there was silence again - though whether it was the comfortable kind or an awkward kind, neither of them could decide.

“I don’t know how far apart we have to be before the connection fades out,” she eventually murmured, “but I still tried talking to you.”

“You did?”

She nodded, “And I’m assuming you never heard anything I said.”

Vision kept his focus on her face, but Wanda’s eyes stayed down. “What did you try to say?” he asked.

“That you shouldn’t worry about me, which I really wish you had heard now,” she shook her head before continuing, “But also that you were right all along. That I should have stayed with you in the compound, or that I should have asked you to come with me. That I was sorry for leaving you there and that I really do understand why you made the choice you did.” 

At last, Wanda looked back up, finally meeting Vision’s eyes again as she admitted, “And that I knew you’d called Steve and told him where to find us. That you said you’d keep the secretary distracted long enough for us to make a run for it.”

“And how did you know it was me?”

“Because I asked.”

“Wait - that was all it took? No magic, nothing?” Vision asked in surprise.

Now it was Wanda’s turn to shrug as she explained herself. “I already had a feeling it was you, but I needed confirmation. So I asked Steve if you had talked to him, and he declined to comment. That basically told me everything I needed to know.”

“Well then,” Vision replied, “I’m sorry that I didn’t hear when you tried reaching out to me.”

“I don’t mind, at least not anymore. Except that first bit, because you’ve been awake too long with worry,” she clarified. “But the rest of it? I’d rather say in person anyway.”

Her grip on his hand never slackened - she seemed determined to hold on as long as Vision would let her, which in all honesty was probably forever. 

“The parts about wishing we had just ran away from the whole mess to begin with?” he asked.

“Yes,” Wanda told him, “those parts.”

He felt his heart racing as she kept looking at him, something sitting behind her eyes that he had never seen before now.

“So here, I’ll say it: we should have left together before either side could take us as their own,” Wanda declared. “And also, you are the most selfless person I’ve ever met and I hope you rub off on me someday.”

“What?” Vision laughed softly, “What on Earth makes you think of yourself as selfish?”

“As you’ll recall, I did drop you through a dozen floors of concrete just to prove a point.” Wanda reminded him, “And obviously the most damage I did was stall you for a while, but still, I feel like the thought really counted there! Not even five minutes down the road, I wondered, ‘Why did I do that?’ and nearly turned around.”

“You did?” he asked, not realizing that regret ran deep with her as well.

“Yes! But I couldn’t, and do you want to know why? Because I was afraid. Isn’t that ridiculous? I was afraid of what I had done, because I knew it was bad enough that you might hate me for it, and - ”

“Wanda, I could never, ever hate you, ” Vision interrupted gently. “I think that if you and I both wish we could have made different choices, then that warrants forgiveness on both ends. Don’t you agree?”

She looked at him and her face suddenly fell, and Vision panicked. What could he have said wrong?

A pause, and then:

“It’s not that, Vision,” Wanda whispered unexpectedly, “it’s that...I’m still afraid.”

“Of what?” he asked, concern in his voice now that the tone of the conversation had so suddenly changed.

Wanda looked back down and slowly lifted their hands, which were still gripped together. She covered her face with the hand not currently holding Vision’s own, and sighed into her palm.

“I’m selfish,” she mumbled, “because I was afraid to say anything before. And now I’m holding your hand, which is a big deal to me, but I’m still having an impossible time explaining why.”

Her pinky and ring finger separated, and she peeked out of the space between them. “I came here tonight because I care about you, Viz. But I can’t explain it, and I don’t deserve to. And I’m sorry.”

But had he let down the mental barricade which usually kept their thoughts from free-flowing into each other, Wanda would have seen that there was no need for any apologies - Vision’s head was currently full of fireworks.

Wanda Maximoff. Had been timid to hold his hand. Wanda. Because she cared for him. 

In the same way Vision cared for her, though? It had certainly seemed like it. They already had friendship, and they had given each other forgiveness - why would she be so nervous and guilt-ridden if she was confessing to something platonic and pre-existing? Or was all of that just his imagination?

“You’re not saying anything.”

“Oh,” Vision was quickly snapped back to reality. “I haven’t yet, no. I sort of forgot to.”

“Have I embarrassed myself?” Wanda asked, moving away the hand that had covered her face to reveal red cheeks.

“No!” Vision reassured her hastily. “No, of course not, I just...I can’t believe it.”

“You can’t?”

“Not because I don’t want to. I’m begging myself to pull it together as we speak.”

Wanda laughed lightly, still not sure if she was being received or gently let down. Either way, it didn’t hurt very much when he put it like that.

Vision took a deep breath and considered his next words very carefully. This was a conversation he had never thought would actually take place - especially not tonight, in these circumstances. But it was one he wanted to get exactly right the first time around.

"I just...really want to understand exactly what you’re saying. Because to me," Vision began, preparing to take a leap of his own, “it sounds like you want to pursue a relationship beyond the friendship we already have.”

Still blushing, Wanda gave a shy nod. “You’re right,” she said as she stepped closer to him, which must have taken all the courage she had left. "What do you think?”

Vision instantly smiled with the confirmation. He was right! Wanda was saying exactly what he’d hoped! It was unbelievable, it was fantastic, it was a miracle playing out before his eyes. Wanda Maximoff, whom he’d been most strongly connected to from the start, who had guided him in becoming the person he wanted to be - she wanted something more!

But how could he properly explain how much this uncovered secret meant to him, especially considering how quickly he had become so flustered? There were so many thoughts to explain, and not enough time, and he was afraid of losing the momentum she had created.

Well...why not start simply by being absolutely honest?

“I think that it’s the best idea I’ve ever heard, Wanda.”

The way Wanda’s eyes immediately lit up made all of his deliberating worth the struggle, and Vision wanted to laugh at her reaction. A wide smile crossed her face as she asked, “Honestly?”

“Yes,” he grinned. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to suggest the same thing, but never found the confidence to actually ask.”

“Honestly?” she exclaimed again, with even more disbelief this time around.

“Yes! For months now!”

“Well I guess we’re both just a couple of wimps then, yeah?” she teased.

“A couple of wimps who consistently endure international emergencies, yes, I suppose it’s true,” Vision laughed, and her giggle in return sounded like bells ringing happily.

“Viz, I’m so happy. I’m definitely sorry that it took me this long to speak up,” she added, “but having this with you is all I’ve really wanted for ages now.”

“Me too. If I’d been brave for just ten seconds last week, we could have saved so much in the long run.”

“It’s true,” Wanda nodded sadly, “but we can’t let that spoil anything now, can we?”

The smile refused to leave Vision’s face, even as he shook his head ‘No’ and tried to push the thought of wasted time out of his head. There was one question, however, that seemed to persist, and as long as they were having Honesty Hour, he figured he could ask it.

“So - what should we do about it?”

“What do you mean?” Wanda asked in return.

“How do we make up for time that we’ve lost?”

“Well,” she considered for a moment, “what do you want to do about it right now?" She briefly squeezed his hand tighter as she asked, and the reminder that they were still holding hands sent sparks flying all the way up through his wrist and forearm. It was so nice having her this close - close enough that his heart had pins and needles stuck through it just because their fingers were linked together. It seemed like there was only one step to take from here:

Vision suddenly felt an overwhelming need to kiss Wanda Maximoff.

They were nowhere near the place they had called home. He had only ever thought about kissing Wanda in the places they’d most often spent time together. It would be much more fitting if they had first kissed on the patio roof of the compound, or in the hallway outside of their bedroom doors, or even while sitting at the kitchen island. But even with the mistakes they had made, and everything they had lost as a result, it was clear that they still had not lost each other. They only needed to be together to be home now.

"Right now?” Vision asked, even though he understood her the first time. “As in, right this instant?"

“Yes,” she answered cheerfully, “right this instant, what do you want to do?”

“Right now, Wanda, I’d like to keep holding your hand, and I would love to kiss you.”

"Then don’t let go and kiss me." 

And despite a lack of both preparation and experience, Vision seemed to know exactly how to gently take Wanda's face in his free hand, lean forward to close the empty space between them, and touch his lips to her own.

In no way was he prepared to finally kiss Wanda Maximoff, which was understandable and ridiculous at the same time. Something had burst open in his chest and began stretching out in every direction, making his brain fuzzy and filling him with joy. And there was so much joy, more than the Vision had ever encountered before.

Wanda’s knees bent like they had earlier, letting her legs curve more against his, and she had one hand rested on his waist for support. She held onto him tightly, still refusing to let go of the hand she had initially taken to hold, and Vision slowly moved his own hand down from her face and to the space behind her ear. There he could feel her loose hair settling between his fingertips, and he added the slightest bit of pressure there. He had always loved Wanda’s hair - the way it brushed against him when they sat side by side, or whipped past her ears while she was flying, or even how it fell across her shoulders when she had it tucked away from her face.

They would only break for a second or so before continuing, and eventually the kiss had turned into several small kisses that kept reigniting as quickly as they were put out. It may have been because of the dark, or because of the quiet, but time had seemed to stop marching forward. How could you measure first kisses with minutes? They seemed bigger than that now - bigger than the time that had been lost, and the distance that would eventually separate them, and even the memories which would have definitely spoiled their happiness to recall. Individually, it had weighed them both down and caused so much grief - but together now, they were more than mistakes and regrets and problems yet to be solved.

And at last they found themselves out of breath and simply standing in their embrace, still close enough to touch foreheads, meeting eyes and exchanging gleeful expressions.

"How long did you think about that before now?" Wanda asked, the first to say anything. 

"I didn’t let myself very often. But even so, more than I care to admit." 

Wanda smiled teasingly before pointing out, “You’re lucky I don’t get a constant feed of everything running through your head, aren’t you?”

"It may have made things easier actually," he told her, a hint of sarcasm in his voice, “seeing as I might not have waited this long and just gone for it.”

“Good point,” she added, “but even if I had known, would I still have to make the first move?”

“Probably,” Vision laughed, “but would you have been able to do it?”

Wanda moved her hand up from his side and to the back of his neck - smiling brightly and answering, “Don’t you hope that I would?” before softly pulling him back in for another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you'd like to listen to the music that majorly influenced this fic (as well as inspired the title), use this link to find it: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lAmyLScoBUM (Life and Death - Paul Cardall)
> 
> also, watch for an end credits scene (epilogue)! it will be short and sweet and exclusively told from wanda's pov. it's main purpose will be to tie up the loose ends with team cap in the hotel room. so...guest starring team cap, I guess? it'll be fun!
> 
> thanks again to ChestnutBrumby and GreenAsClover, who were in my thoughts for the whole process of writing this story! and thank you to every single reader - whether you are new to my work or have been here for a while, you are appreciated and make me want to keep writing! please keep letting me know what you think and how you feel, all I want out of this experience is to connect with other fans of these two marvelous characters. and while this story may be finished, stay tuned for more stories soon! :)


	4. end credits scene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End credits scene! As promised! Please enjoy! xx

“I already found your note,” came a low voice from the other side of the room, and Wanda winced. She’d opened the door to total silence and sleeping bodies, and thinking herself lucky, hoped that she could dispose of any evidence that she’d ever left the room.

But it wasn’t to be - Natasha was awake and pinching a folded piece of white notepad paper. She sat up, flipping the blunt ends of her freshly chopped hair out of her eyes. She looked at Wanda with a tired smirk, like she hadn’t been awake for long, but had looked forward to it nonetheless.

“I overreacted,” Wanda began with a whisper. “I thought I’d be gone much longer than I actually was.”

Natasha said nothing, but instead raised an eyebrow slightly, perfectly communicating “I think you’re full of it” without a single word.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Wanda asked defensively, trying not to acknowledge that she was already screwed. She should know better than to lie to the Black Widow herself. It had been made very clear over the past several months that no secret could be kept here for very long.

And while Wanda knew that they were friends, and that Natasha wasn’t going to act unreasonably about anything, she also felt like...maybe this was something she deserved to keep only to herself for a while. 

Like maybe the events of the past few hours had been special and didn’t need to be analyzed immediately.

“Because I know you didn’t go to turn us in or anything,” Natasha answered, “but sneaking in certainly makes me think you still care about covering up your tracks.”

“Have you not been teaching me how to do exactly that for the past year of my life?” she quipped, raising an eyebrow of her own.

“And you would’ve gotten away with it if you’d been hiding from HYDRA instead of from me.”

“It’s not like my tracks go very far,” Wanda continued arguing, crossing her arms uncomfortably, “I was only out for a few hours, how much distance could I really cover? Where do I even have to go?”

“Wanda,” Natasha cut in, “I’m not going to ask you where you went.”

“Well, what are you going to ask me, then?” she replied a bit louder, growing slightly frustrated already. At times like this, it was stressful to have a human polygraph for a teammate - but even more so when she refused to ask questions and instead tried playing games.

“I was going to ask you if he’s alright.”

He? He!

“Who?”

“For God’s sake, Wanda - Vision.”

Typical. Wanda refused to give any answer besides the weird mix of both angry surprise and fake confusion on her face. She didn’t particularly feel like giving Natasha the satisfaction of being correct so quickly.

Unfortunately, both women were too stubborn to give in to their staring contest for a moment or so - until Natasha finally sighed, her shoulders sinking, and replied, “Fine, okay. I’ll assume everything is fixed now and leave you both to it. But,” she continued, her eyes suddenly flickering strangely, “just remember that Vision is the one who called in the tip to Steve. He got in contact as soon as he knew, even though Ross was practically standing right over his shoulder. I’m pretty sure that makes him just as much of an ally as I am, at this point.”

Wanda swallowed nervously, unsure of how to react to this half of the argument. Where was Natasha planning to go with this?

“And there will be plenty of loose ends for a while,” she went on, “but we can trust the Vision. He doesn’t have to be a loose end, if you don’t want him to be.” Natasha paused, waiting for a look of recognition from Wanda, then smiled once she finally got it.

What was Natasha offering?

“Are you...what are you trying to say?”

Natasha didn’t answer immediately, instead turning back over into bed, her dark red hair returning to the starched white pillowcase. “Just let me know when you want to see him again,” she finally replied.

Wanda stepped lightly over to the other side of the bed, climbing under the sheets herself, and turning to face the opposite direction.

“Thank you,” she whispered after a moment, and she heard only a deep sigh in reply.


End file.
